[Editor’s Note: Peter Fagg gave these remarks at a Sacrament Meeting of the Chorley Second Ward of the Preston England Stake on 30 June 2024. With his kind permission, we share them here, lightly edited, with the hope that they might be helpful and comforting to some of our readers.]

Our lives are full of defining moments. Events or conversations or people that can shift our focus, allowing us to see things in a new light. I had one such defining moment four months ago (Feb 2024). I was giving a tour to an American friend whom I have known for thirty-plus years. We ended up in the windswept seaside town of Cromer in Norfolk and talked into the night about books and memories and stuff.

One topic hit a tender nerve as we discussed our respective children. Both of us have children who no longer attend Church. The thoughts we shared that night have been brewing in my head ever since. I’m grateful for being assigned this talk, as it forced me to sit down and take my friend’s insights, quotes from Church leaders and LDS authors Robert L. Millet and Larry Barkdull, and a decade of my jumbled thoughts and put them in some sort of order.

But before I begin, I need to provide a public health warning. At first this might sound like a tale of gloom and doom. Hang in there with me, though, because there’s a happy ending. This is really a tale of light and comfort.

So, how better to start a tale of gloom and doom than a song from the musical version of Les Misérables. If you have seen it, you will remember the song “Empty Chairs at Empty Tables.” One of the heroes, Marius, has been saved from death at the barricade and returns to the deserted cafe where his dead friends used to meet. Brokenhearted, he sings:

There’s a grief that can’t be spoken.
There’s a pain goes on and on.
Empty chairs at empty tables
Now my friends are dead and gone.

Similar thoughts have haunted me for over a decade as I look at the emptying pew where all my children once sat. I mourn that some of them do not feel what I feel. It is a grief that I have not spoken. Why can they not see? It is a pain that goes on and on. Why do they not know? I’ve tried to reconcile their absence. A roller coaster of feelings have followed: is it guilt, embarrassment, imposter syndrome? What is it that I’m really feeling?

I know I’m not alone. Most of us know a child, a parent, a spouse, a sibling, a grandchild, a friend who has stepped away from the Church or even away from any faith in God.

How should we handle this mix of emotions?

If our parenting was in question and we were in a court of law, we would call upon Precedent. This falling away is nothing new; my wife and I are neither the first nor the last to experience the spiritual loss of loved ones.

In the Old Testament we see standing next to a righteous Abel was a murderous Cain. Well, Adam and Eve what have you got to say for yourselves? We witness King Solomon, risen as a pious and wise man, who abandons God to follow idolatry.

In the New Testament we see Judas Iscariot, one of the chosen disciples, betraying Jesus for thirty pieces of silver. How low can you slip?

In the Book of Mormon, alongside the valiant Nephi and Sam were the murmuring Laman and Lemuel. Can you begin to imagine the embarrassment and pain that Alma and Mosiah felt as their own sons went around trying to destroy the Church? In Mosiah we read:

“there were many of the rising generation that could not understand the words of king Benjamin, … and they did not believe the tradition of their fathers. They did not believe what had been said concerning the resurrection of the dead, neither did they believe concerning the coming of Christ. … and their hearts were hardened. (Mosiah 26:1–5)

In Church History we naturally focus on the wonderful missionary successes of Dan Jones in Wales, Wilford Woodruff in Herefordshire, Heber C. Kimball in Lancashire. What we don’t tend to hear is about the falling away, the apathy of members, the excommunications, but they were right there.

Alongside the missionary miracles were the murmuring masses. Of the witnesses of the Book of Mormon, David Whitmer, Jacob Whitmer, John Whitmer, and Hiram Page left the Church despite the miracles they saw.

Since the beginning of time—and this is surely THE precedent among all precedents—Heavenly Father’s empty pews must have been alarming. Shoulder to shoulder with the Savior was an eloquent and persuasive adversary who turned the hearts of a third of the host of heaven.

Even with all these historical examples there are still niggling moments when things are just not picture perfect. We become a little unsettled when we hear, from the book of Proverbs, “Train up a child in the way he shall go and when he is old, he will not depart from it.” So, what did we do wrong?

President David O. McKay said: “No other success can compensate for failure in the home.” Oh dear!!!!

President Harold B. Lee taught us that, “The most important work we will ever do in the Church is that which we do within the walls of our own home.” Oh me, oh my!

Nothing has caused me deeper turmoil and soul-searching than having family members who stray from righteousness. Even to the point that it makes you wonder, Should I be expounding gospel doctrines when I can’t even get some of my own children to live them?

My American friend made an important observation. He said:

We should not lower the ideal. We take seriously the commandment to be perfect, even though we all fall short. We speak of the importance of temple marriage, even though some in the congregation may not have married in the temple. We preach of fidelity, virtue, and chastity, even though some in our midst may be in need of repentance.

We do not dilute our standards as a concession to a decaying society. The key is not to surrender our goals, but to be more sensitive and understanding of those who come up short. Not all of our little ones will be above average. Not all of our children will excel academically. Not all of our teenagers will be articulate, handsome, or charismatic. And not all our posterity will choose the right.

We live in a world of risks with no guarantees. That was in the fine print and we knew that before we came here. One of the shocking realizations in life is that our little ones do not necessarily inherit all our commitment, our steadfastness, or our tenacity to hold to the iron rod. Nor do they automatically feel about the restored gospel as we do.

Sometimes my wife and I wish we could return to the simpler times when our word was final. We could lead, guide, and walk beside, and they followed. But then indifference, independence, and even hostility crept in. Thankfully God accomplishes his perfect purposes through imperfect people.

It is a wrenching thing to lose a loved one to death. It is perhaps even more wrenching to lose a loved one to the influences of the world. Pres. Nelson said, “The only way to take sorrow out of death is to take love out of life.” Likewise, the only way to take pain out of wandering family members is to take love out of our relationships.

How do we reconcile gospel teachings?

David O. McKay said, "No other success can compensate for failure in the home." He was asked what constitutes "failure in the home." He said failure only occurs when parents and grandparents stop trying to influence for good their children who have strayed. We must not feel guilty as long as we keep trying. Lehi had what many would term a dysfunctional family. Even to the end he was reaching out trying to influence them. He was not a failure.

Harold B. Lee said, "The most important of the Lord’s work you will ever do will be the work you do within the walls of your own home." That does not mean we have 100% of the family engaged as active Church members. It does mean that the Lord’s work continues in our home.

Joseph Smith said, “Our heavenly Father is more liberal in His views, and boundless in His mercies and blessings, than we are ready to believe or receive.” Joseph also made reference to the sealing power of Elijah: “When a seal is put upon the father and mother, it secures their posterity, so that they cannot be lost, but will be saved by virtue of the covenant of their father and mother.”

Elder Orson F. Whitney offered the following commentary on Joseph Smith’s words:

The Prophet Joseph Smith declared—and he never taught more comforting doctrine—that the eternal sealings of faithful parents and the divine promises made to them for valiant service in the cause of truth, would save not only themselves but likewise their posterity. Though some of the sheep may wander, the eye of the shepherd is upon them, and sooner or later they will feel the tentacles of divine providence reaching out after them and drawing them back to the fold. Either in this life or in the life to come, they will return. They will have to pay their debt to justice; they will suffer for their sins; and may tread a thorny path; but if it leads them at last, like the penitent prodigal, to a loving and forgiving father’s heart and home, the painful experience will not have been in vain.

Few families in this life are spared the pain of wandering family members. Sometimes anguishing parents live to see their children return in this life, live to see the miracle for which they had pleaded for so long. And sometimes parents do not live to see the child return, but they do experience another kind of miracle—the soothing peace of the Prince of Peace who provides divine perspective.

We have no difficulty speaking of the “spirit of Elijah” reaching out, touching, directing, and impelling individuals to search out their dead and perform the saving ordinances. Why should we have difficulty believing that the power of the covenant will reach out, touch, redirect, and impel the wandering sheep? Could that power be indeed the same spirit of Elijah, the spirit that turns the hearts of the children to the covenant made with their fathers?

President Boyd K. Packer said:

It is not uncommon for responsible parents to lose one of their children, for a time, to influences over which they have no control. They agonize over rebellious sons and daughters. They are puzzled over why they are so helpless when they have tried so hard to do what they should. It is my conviction that those wicked influences one day will be overruled.

Elder Jeffrey R. Holland said, “Some blessings come soon, some blessings come late, and some blessings don’t come until heaven.” In the same way some conversions come soon where many show an easiness to believe; they never doubted. Some conversions come late, like Alma the younger, Paul, and Zeezrom. Some conversions won’t come until heaven.

President Joseph F. Smith’s vision of the spirit world and the redemption of the dead reads as follows:

The dead who repent will be redeemed, through obedience to the ordinances of the house of God, And after they have paid the penalty of their transgressions, and are washed clean, shall receive a reward according to their works, for they are heirs of salvation. (Doctrine and Covenants 138:59–59)

President J. Reuben Clark Jr. spoke of the goodness of our God: “I feel that [the Lord] will give that punishment which is the very least that our transgression will justify…I believe that when it comes to making the rewards for our conduct, he will give the maximum that is possible to give.”

Elder Holland said: “His concern is for the faith at which you finally arrive, not the hour of the day in which you got there.” Eternity is a long time, so if it takes a while to get it right, the effort will have been worth it. “If you are struggling under the weight of wandering souls in your family, I invite you to ponder this simple question: “Do you think our heavenly parents wander through the heavens in morose agony over their straying children?”

If your answer was like mine, that I didn’t think so, then the follow-up question is “Why not?" I think that answer lies in PERSPECTIVE. Because our vision is limited, when a soul wanders, we fret and ache and sometimes we despair. God dwells in eternity and sees the end from the beginning.

I think we should change the questions we ask ourselves. We need to stop beating ourselves with a stick. Not, “What did we do wrong?” Instead: “Why did this at-risk soul come to us? He trusted us. If not to us, to whom would He send them?

We must learn to give unconditional love—a love that is not dependent on coming to Church or sticking to all the rules. We must never give up; we must not turn our backs.

The great plan of happiness is perfect and the Savior can work miracles. Before Joshua led the house of Israel through the River Jordan he encouraged them: “Sanctify yourselves, for tomorrow the Lord will do wonders among you.”

We cannot control the life choices of others, but we CAN control our commitment. Elder Holland said,

If your children choose to leave the straight and narrow way, they leave it very conscious that their parents were firmly in it. Furthermore, they will be much more likely to return to that path when they come to themselves and recall the loving example and gentle teachings you offered them there.

I started with Marius’s heart-wrenching song about his lost ones. I want to share the rest of his song, but I’ve taken the liberty of changing the lyrics.

There’s a Love that can’t be spoken.
There’s a Joy goes on and on.
Empty chairs at empty tables
Mean my friends are lost, NOT gone.

Here they talked of Restoration.
Here they felt the gospel flame.
Here they sang about ‘tomorrow’
And tomorrow’s still our aim.

From the classrooms in the corner
They could see our souls reborn
And they rose with voices ringing
I can hear them now!

The very words that they had sung
Became their last communion
Before our grand reunion.

Oh, my child, my child, forgive me
That I’m here and you are gone.
But His Love cannot be broken.
And the plan goes on and on.

For years I have allowed a shadow of pain to darken our family’s gospel living. I was wrong to do so, and even though I still haven’t quite shrugged it off—there are still some little lingering pains—I now feel a renewed sense of purpose instead of failure. I have a growing desire to recommit to gospel joy rather than wallowing in sadness. President Eyring summed it up best with this explanation:

A prophet of God once offered me counsel that gives me peace. I was worried that the choices of others might make it impossible for our family to be together forever. He said, “You are worrying about the wrong problem. You just live worthy of the celestial kingdom, and the family arrangements will be more wonderful than you can imagine."